Mirror Memories
by Silverleaf15
Summary: Hey guys, this might be a little confusing. My other fanfiction, Jagged Hearts was originally part of this fanfiction but I separated them. So Jagged Hearts is actually part of Mirror Memories. It is not as sad as Jagged Hearts, but there are a lot of new characters in Mirror Memories that aren't in Throne of Glass. I'll do a small biography on them at the start of every chapter.
1. Mirror Memories

**I'm sorry if this is confusing to readers. I've always imagined that Celaena would be the Terrasen princess for some reason. *shrugs* Don't know why but it somehow makes sense to me. So this is a story about how Dorian and Chaol discovering that bit of Celaena's past. I realize that if the future series doesn't match up, I'll have to take this down but I want to have some fun while my fantasy lasts. Review and tell me what you think of it. Stupid? Weird? Okay that's your opinion and I won't judge. **

**Anyway, i am done blabbing. Here's the background.**

Celaena is the King's champion and she's finally doing her job. The king sends her on a mission to find some kind of really rare plant that only grows in the darkest, deepest part of the Staghorn mountains. The catch? An vicious spirit guards it. Obviously Celaena is from Terrasen so she is the only one who knows about the ghost and the horrors that it can wreck on a human. But even worse? Chaol and Dorian are going with her so she will have to protect them _and_ fight the destructive beast. What's an assassin to do? As they journey onwards though they get caught in a dangerous snowstorm. They eventually find an abandoned castle amidst the towering peaks. They go inside and find that the rooms are strangely clean. No dust or cobwebs which means someone is occupying the residence. Celaena goes of on her own to explore leaving Chaol and Dorian to their own devices. But what happens when they find a mirror that see into the past?

* * *

The wall length mirror blurred, clouding over at the edges. "What-" Dorian began, slightly alarmed. The opaque cloud snaked tendrils of a smoky substance throughout the reflective surface seeming to come from the gilt frame. Their reflections disappeared and the fog receded to reveal a richly decorated hall.

Tapestries and ceiling high windows bled coloured sunlight into the room, dappling the walls with flecks of dancing sparks. Shades of white and gold dominated the room, the regalia all direct denotations to the royal family of Terrasen.

A little girl of about seven or eight slipped into the hall quietly. She wore a loose cream coloured dress. A thin, well-made gold belt was clinched around her tiny waist. Dorian stared. The girl was extraordinarily beautiful for her young age and was also remarkably familiar. She had flawless creamy skin and her chiseled angular cheekbones sported a luminous rosy glow. The little girl curtsied gracefully to the couple in front of her.

The man and woman sat on matching ermine covered diamond thrones. It was obvious the couple was of royalty. The man wore a suit of black with intricate gold embroidery. The symbol of the House of Terrasen was emblazoned across his chest. The muscles of his arms strained against his sleeves. A seasoned warrior.

The man's wife was absolutely stunning although she had to be at least in her mid thirties. Her gold eyes shone complimenting her gown of maroon and polished bronze. She had gleaming ebony hair that was artfully coiled and braided on top of her head, dangling a headpiece of gold strung pearls.

The girl's lush pink lips curled into a melancholy smile. "Mother, Father," she said, her voice lilting softly. Her thick, silky blonde hair caught the sunlight. It glistened like spun gold. The queen closed her eyes pained.

"If there was any other way, I would not have asked this of you my dear beautiful girl." The little girl's face flashed with grief.

"I know," she whispered. The queen of Terrasen rose from her throne. The king brushed a reassuring hand over his wife's shoulder.

"It will be all right," he said quietly.

"I hope you are right," she murmured. The queen descended from the dais. Her skirts rustled, the only sound in the cavernous room as she knelt before her daughter. The princess lifted her chin and the queen smoothed the girl's hair back revealing the telltale pointed ears of the Fae. Chaol sucked in a sharp breath. Dorian didn't blame him. He'd never seen a Fae in real life either.

"Do you know what to do?" the queen asked. The princess nodded and got down on one knee as if she were proposing. Her head bowed.

"I am ready." The queen smiled down at her daughter wistfully.

"You are so brave, my little star. Someday, you will make Terrasen proud." The princess said nothing. Her mother looked back at the king and he gave a sharp jerk of his chin. The queen's eyes fluttered closed and she placed a hand on each side of her daughter's temples. "You have come to swear your life into that of Terrasen. You have time and time again served this country well and have sacrificed much. Hopefully, this shall be your last." The queen paused and traced a mark on the girl's brow with a blood red nail. "Are are willing to sacrifice your magic and your heirloom?" The princess' face was set in determination.

"I am."

"Are you willing to give up your family, your friends, and your Fae heritage?"

"I am, " the girl replied.

"Then," the queen swallowed, "I take the key and turn the lock. Deep inside a magic hoax." The girl's slender body flinched and trembled. She curled in on herself, clutching her chest as she screamed in agony. The princess pressed a shaking fist to her mouth to stifle her cries but whimpers slipped through. Dorian's heart twisted for her. How can any parent do this to a child? The princess jerked and collapsed boneless, to the marble floor. The queen made as if to pick her up.

"No!" snapped the king. "You out of all people should know that she needs to get up on her own to complete the ritual." The king stared at his daughter's limp form fiercely from his diamond throne. "Get up." he said coldly. The princess didn't move. "I command you to get up!" he snarled. The girl lurched to her feet. She wobbled dangerously. The queen tried to catch her but the girl only staggered away holding up a hand. Dorian caught a glimpse of her face before she turned away. The princess' ears were not pointed anymore and her features less sharp.

"It is done," the queen whispered. "Darling star." She moved to embrace her daughter but the princess backed away. The king stepped down from the dais and walked to his wife. He slid an comforting arm around his wife's waist and gazed sorrowfully down at the princess.

"I had wished it wouldn't come to this," his sonorous voice echoing through the hall, compassion bleeding into his tone.

"So had I," the little girl murmured. "If I can be excused, I will take my leave." She curtsied and turned away but her mother gripped her shoulder.

"I am so, so sorry." The princess shrugged dislodging the queen's hand, her gold belt clinking. Her eyes were cool and distant.

"I'll do anything for my country." She turned in a swirl of skirts and stalked out of the hall, but not before Dorian and Chaol saw the gleam of unshed tears in the princess' gold, blue eyes.


	2. Confusion

**Okay guys:**

**Bio for our beloved assassin:** Assassin name: Celaena Sardothien

Princess Name: Isensta Brannon (Crown Princess of Terrasen)

**Bio for King Nikolai:** Last King of Terrasen

Father to Isensta

**Bio for Queen Leyana:** Last Queen of Terrasen

Mother of Isensta

* * *

The mirror fogged up and turned into reflective glass. Dorian and Chaol took a moment to gather their wits. Dorian blinked slowly. "Was that Celaena in there?" he inquired shell-shocked. Chaol was still gaping at the eerily, clairvoyant looking glass. When he finally broke the silence, he spoke in a hushed tone.

"The couple, the man and woman, were the last rulers of Terrasen. King Nikolai and his wife, Queen Leyana." Dorian shook his head mutely.

"The mirror allows you to see into the past," he breathed. "This incident must have transpired before my father conquered Terrasen and overthrew the monarchy."

"But that doesn't explain why Celaena-" Chaol began.

"Yes it does, it does, it explains so much. Why Celaena never talks about her life before she became an assassin. Why she is always so secretive about her past." Dorian said softly. Chaol shook his head.

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Dorian wanted to shake his friend. Sometimes Chaol could be so obtuse.

"Don't you understand?" Dorian wanted to stomp his foot like a child. This concept can't be this hard to deduce. He sighed and spoke slowly. "We both agree Celaena was the little girl in the mirror. The queen claimed her as her daughter. Her blood. If Celaena is the child of the king and queen of Terrasen. What does that make her?" Chaol's face went ashen.

"A princess," he said faintly. Dorian huffed.

"It took you so long to get it?"Dorian asked frustrated. "If Celaena is a princess that indicates she is probably the last of her linage. The last of the royal family of Terrasen." Chaol gaped at him mouth open.

"That's not possible." Dorian rolled his eyes.

"Why not? It's no wonder she's always so terrified of my father. He took everything away from her. Her family, her friends, even her country's freedom. " he hesitated. "She probably became Adarlan's Assassin to get revenge-"

"-and we sent her to a death camp," Chaol whispered. They turned to stare transfixed at the mirror.

"What are you mumbling about?" Celaena's irritated voice came from the doorway. "Have you chosen your rooms yet?" Dorian and Chaol jumped, startled. They turned to see her silhouette leaning against the oak door. A shaft of light crept in behind her giving her a ethereal glow. They studied her closely.

"Same eyes," Dorian murmured.

"Blonde hair," Chaol muttered back. Celaena shifted, uncomfortable from her place against the door at their slow perusal. Her head listed at the side.

"What are you staring at?" They didn't answer. She exhaled heavily. "Look," Celaena's sardonic tone easily discernible. "I know I am attractive and all," she squinted at them, "but your expressions are slightly bizarre."

"You..." Chaol choked out. She blinked and looked down at herself.

"Is there something wrong with me?" She quickly patted her face and arms uneasily as if to make sure she was still there. Dorian strode to her briskly. He gripped her shoulders. Hard. Celaena's eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing?" Dorian shook her.

"Are you a princess?" he half-shouted at her. She stepped back, uncomfortable.

"What?"

"You know exactly what I am talking about." Dorian snapped. Celaena shook her head.

"You aren't making any sense." She glanced toward Chaol.

"What is your real name, is what he mean," Chaol clarified. Celaena's expression was one of shock before she schooled her demeanor into neutrality. She stared them down.

"Why?" Celaena said flatly. Dorian swallowed. "You have never asked me something like this before."

"Celaena Sardothien is not your given name, is it." Chaol said rubbing his palms over his face wearily.

"Does it matter?" she challenged.

"Depends," Dorian said biting his lip. "What we saw there," he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the mirror, "can't exactly be ignored." Celaena went silent.

"What did you see?" she said voice low and icy.

"You were with the king and queen of Terrasen. You called them your parents." Chaol stepped closer to her. "Why?"

"Why do you call your parents, mother and father?" Celaena asked mockingly. Dorian's eyes flared.

"So you admit it then. You are a princess." Celaena shrugged adopting a casual position.

"No use denying it now, is there."

"Princess," Dorian repeated. Celaena arched a brow.

"Is there a reason for the repetition or do you just not know what that means?" He flushed.

"But a princess? Really?" Dorian asked incredulous. She sighed.

"I think we established that point a moment ago." Bored, Celaena lounged against the wall examining her lacquered nails. "So let me simplify this for you." She extended a hand. "Crown Princess Isensta Brannon of Terrasen at your service. It is a pleasure to meet you," she said drily.

Dorian ignored her hand and Celaena's arm dropped. "_Crown _Princess?" he asked. She smirked.

"Crown Princess," she replied. Celaena gave them a teasing grin. She was enjoying this! Dorian pressed his lips firmly shut, eyes slitting.

"But you are an assassin," he said finally breaking the awkward silence. The princess shrugged nonchalantly.

"I took up the job after your father murdered my family," her voice hardened and became as sharp as steel. Dorian flinched.

"You!" He had nothing to say to that. Her voice turned playful though her face didn't soften. It was as emotionless and unflinching as glass.

"Would you like to see how exactly my whole family died in the hands of the king of Adarlan?," she cocked her head. " Perhaps you can learn from it." Celaena smiled without humor. Chaol took a step toward her.

"Celaena..." She met his gaze head on. Grief and rage battled for dominance on her face.

"Watch," she snarled. Celaena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She sauntered over to the glass mirror. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, their reflections started to waver and faded from view.


	3. Gone

**Hey people:**

**I think this chapter is kinda self explanatory so yeah. Get ready to have your heart ripped out. Really sad...**

* * *

Celaena was older, about sixteen or seventeen. She was healthier and even more beautiful than she was now. Her blonde hair was unbound and it swung into her face as she paced the room. Celaena wore a suit of a black, shiny material that reflected the candlelight. Various weapons were scattered all over the room. The few that were strapped onto her lithe body gleamed, their edges lethally sharp.

The careful, elegant furnishings of her home spoke of money. Rich carpets silenced the soft sound of her footsteps as she walked back and forth. The ornate clock atop the mantle read one in the morning. The expression on her face said it clearly enough. She was worried.

She stopped before the hearth and stripped of her weapons. Daggers, stilettos, swords. They clanged to the floor. Celaena rubbed her face tiredly. "He should be home by now," she muttered. She sat on the couch and tucked her legs beneath her body. "He'll come home. He has to." She closed her eyes sighed.

Celaena curled up on the divan and nodded to sleep.

When she finally woke up, it was dawn. She went out the door. A few minutes later, a well- dressed silver- eyed gentlemen slipped in.

It was obvious this man wasn't the man Celaena was waiting for just a few hours ago. He had a certain long-limbed predatory grace Dorian immediately shuddered at. The man wasn't classically handsome but he possessed an aura of a power and appeal that not even Dorian could deny. He must be a favorite with the ladies.

He settled into the couch to wait. Celaena returned. She walked in and shut the door behind her quietly. Stalking into the living room she paused as she beheld the silver-eyed man. She didn't seem surprised at the man's appearance in her own home. Celaena closed her eyes as if it would block the image of the man . "No," she said flatly.

"I'm so sorry," the man whispered.

Celaena's usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced with one of utter pain and agony. The man saw it. His face softened and Celaena's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't say it." Celaena walked to the fireplace with deceptive calm, each move controlled and poised, as dangerous as the mountain lions of the Staghorn Mountains.

"They thought he was still living at the Keep," he whispered. Celaena's face tightened. "They left him as a message." Celaena grabbed the mantle clock.

She balanced it in her hand.

Celaena hurled the timepiece across the room and it shattered with an awful, splintering crack against the dining table. The clatter of dishes and silverware echoed around the room.

"Celaena," the man said softly. Celaena's face was dull with defeat.

"I want to see the body." she said, her voice dangerously soft. He shook his head.

"No. You don't. Celaena. Listen to me," he sounded desperate. Celaena whipped to face him her mouth bared in a terrifying snarl.

_"I want to see the body."_

"Sam wouldn't want you to act like this Celaena," the silver eyed man said softly. She gave a harsh, choked laugh, a sound like broken glass.

"How would you know how he would want me to act?" her empty gaze swept over him. "You are not him nor will you ever be." The man's countenance flashed with sorrow. Celaena laughed bitterly at his hurt expression. "Don't pretend you care about what happened with Sam, Arobynn. I know you don't." Celaena paused.

"You are probably happy, now that Sam is dead. No competition for my affections anymore. It's too bad I will never return your feelings." She brushed past him to the door. Arobynn's hand whipped out and caught her arm.

"Please, Celaena," he looked at her pleading. "Don't do this to yourself." She shook him off.

"You didn't own me or Sam anymore. He was my whole heart, and you broke it." Celaena's eyes shone with tears as she stared at him. "I will never forgive you for this, Arobynn. Never."

She stalked out of the apartment.

* * *

**So... what did you think? Review for more chapters, guys!**


	4. Three Bleeding Hearts

**So... new chapter... not really, sorry.**

**Part of this is actually part of Jagged Hearts so it might be a bit repetitive for all you darling people who've already read my other fanfic. There's actually a new beginning and end part to this chapter so read it and, of course, review! Or else... Mwahahaha :) **

* * *

The image hung on the mirror for a moment before fading into nothing. Celaena let out a strange gasping sob. "No," she whispered. Dorian turned to face her, expression pitying. Celaena stared at the mirror, salty tears sliding soundlessly down her face. "That wasn't what I wanted you to see." She backed away from them shaking her head.

"Celaena..." Dorian said softly. Celaena raised a trembling fist to her mouth and turned, running out of the room.

Celaena knew this was cowardly but there was no escape. They would pity her and comfort her when there was no comfort that could be given. Nothing could make her feel better. Sam was gone. No words of solace would ever bring him back. She sometimes felt the gap in her chest where Sam had once lay deepest in her heart. He was ripped away from her in a blink of an eye and his absence often hit her so hard she forgot to breathe.

Celaena heard footsteps following her and she ducked into a room quickly. She entered a guest room with a roaring fireplace. The footsteps passed her room receding into the distance. Then, the footfalls came back. Celaena groaned inwardly. Why does he have to be so persistent?

The footsteps paused outside her door. A hesitant knock came. Celaena swore quietly and hastily moved away. She scrambled to the vanity and quickly wiped her tears away. Celaena straightened her tunic, smoothing out the filth and creases.

She will not meet whoever was on the other side of the door with an unkempt appearance and tearstained face. _I am Celaena Sardothien_. She thought to herself firmly. _Adarlan's Assassin. I will not be afraid._

Celaena sauntered to the door and threw it open. Chaol stood on the other side with a fist raised as if to knock again. His eyes widened. "Oh." She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Chaol cocked his head, bewildered.

"I thought..." he trailed off.

"Yes?" Celaena swept back into the bedroom. "Would you like to come in?" Chaol blinked and strode in.

"So? What is it?" He faltered slightly, eyes slipping off to the side.

"Dorian told me about Sam." he said gently, sympathy pooling in his golden eyes. "I am so sorry for your loss." Her expression immediately closed.

"You don't need to be sorry. You did nothing wrong." Celaena said flatly.

"But," Chaol started.

"You did nothing wrong," she spat. "Don't say sorry, _ever_!"

Celaena's lips quivered and she hated it. Hated her eyes for going damp, eyelashes clumping together as she stared blindly past Chaol at the dancing, flickering hearth. Especially when she saw his face soften into a mix of sympathy and pity. She jerked her face away. She didn't want to see it. Chaol uncomfortably shifted his feet, uneasy.

"Celae-," he began. Celaena threw out a hand, unable, unwilling to listen to his words. Always pity, always charity, _always_ condolence. Never understanding. No one will ever understand her. She was too wild, too unpredictable. Like a savage beast straining to break open its beautiful, ornate cage but never succeeding.

She trembled, heat and anger flashing through her veins. The fire burned her mercilessly, twisting, molding, shaping. Celaena shuddered violently, her hands clenched into tight fists around the hilt of her throwing knife.

Her knuckles reddened, then whitened from the force of her harsh grip. She hated her body for betraying her like this. Her eyes stung, her breath a shallow hissing thing. Stilled. Calmed.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Celaena knew what she looked like to Chaol. A seething mess self-loathing and rage. Darkness pulsed through every part of her. Invading her pores and oozing out like slime. She was a _monster_. Her vision went red for a moment before crystallizing into diamond clarity. The table she leaned against was shaking.

_ No, It's me, I am still shaking like the stupid idiot I am._

She moved away from the table. Celaena wanted to go to the armchair, to sit down but she couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but stand there hopeless, incompetent and vulnerable.

"He's not the only one out there Celaena. There's always another." Chaol said in a hushed voice.

Celaena laughed bitterly. She wanted to lash out, strike him down as she would have with a knife. But, she didn't. Instead she pummeled him with her words.

"No? Are you volunteering then? You want me to replace him like a toy? A plaything?" She chuckled without humor. "Like a broken, used sword that is no use anymore?" Chaol's expression closed. Saw him barricade himself in a mental palisade.

Celaena felt nothing. No guilt, no remorse, nothing. She had closed off these feelings for too long. Celaena watched starving beggars and vagrants, desperate courtesans and assassins go through all phases of life. A brutal, sickly sad existence. Never worth anything. Never care for. Kicked around in society within an inch of their lives. She was one of them.

Numb she finally walked over to the divan and sat with a slump. Chaol's gaze followed her.

Celaena looked down at her small hands. Hands that have cut, slashed, strangled. Hands that have ended life after life after life, sustained injury after injury. She used the tip of her index finger to trace a particularly nasty, jagged scar on her left hand that stretched from her wrist to the edge of her pinky.

The assassin bit her lip and clasped her tightening fists in her lap. Her words were quiet, defeated.

"Do you know what love is?" she choked out huskily. Chaol opened his mouth but Celaena cut him off before he could answer."Love is your devotion to your deities, your friends and your family. Love is the light, fluttering feeling you have when you first realize you have found your other half," Celaena unclasped her hands and laid a hand on top of her heart. "and the utter devastation when you know they are well and truly gone. Love is free to give or take but always comes with a price. The absolute agony of losing them."

Celaena blinked back her tears. Her voice caught as she tried to swallow past the solid lump in her throat.

"In essence one possesses three hearts. One that is taken up for your beliefs, one that speaks of adoration for familial bonds and one for the people in your life." Chaol shook his head and opened his mouth again as if to speak. Celaena plunged forward ignoring him.

"My godly heart is gone, my familial heart was cruelly shattered and ground to bits beneath Adarlan's boot ten years ago," her voice cracked and Celaena looked down gathering her courage. She blinked and tears traced a slow descent of salt down her cheeks.

"and my friend based heart is more than half gone. Betrayals, wickedness and deaths have led to this."

Celaena sobbed once, quietly and looked up meeting Chaol's tender gaze.

"Even now, I can feel the half heart I have left splintering. And when that little bit of heart fades as well, I will fade away with it day by day until there is nothing left. Nothing but an empty shell of a girl that has already disappeared into the void." Chaol opened his mouth, but no sound escaped. She looked at him dully without seeing him.

"He was tortured for hours. Whipped, cut, broken, bruised," she pressed a fist to her mouth stifling another sob, "I saw his body afterwards. It was barely recognizable." Celaena closed her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if knowing what exactly Sam suffered made me more resistant to pain in Endovier. He endured more in those few hours than I ever did in a lifetime." Chaol flinched, heart twisting.

"Don't say that. You suffered just as much," he walked to her touching her shoulder gently.

"It's all my fault. I condemned him to this," Celaena's voice wavered. "If I hadn't refused to leave Rifthold. If I ran away with him, none of this would have happened. Arobynn wouldn't have killed him. Sam wouldn't be dead. I would have never been sentenced to Endovier. We would have been happy. We would have had a life together. " Tears seeped down under her closed lids. "Everything. My fault." Chaol's heart twisted in his chest. How can anyone stand such pain? So he comforted her in the only way he knew.

Chaol turned her to face him pulling her into his arms. She resisted for a bit before succumbing to his heartfelt embrace, shaking. He would comfort her as she once did for him. She sobbed into his chest. He would hold her, as long as it long for her pain to ease. _I swear it._


	5. Massacre

**So, I know I haven't really posted anything this week or two... so for your "unwavering" patience, I wrote this chapter. This is the scene where actually killing takes place, so yeah. I'm not usually so good at the descriptive stuff so... I don't know. Tell me what you think of it. **

**Also there is a new character. Please put your hands together for... *drumroll please***

**Sage Havilliard. **

**I know this is really out of the blue but I wanted the BIG BAD KING to have a son in this fanfic. So I made Sage up. The 1st crown prince of Adarlan, but you should know that he dies in this fanfic as well since Dorian wouldn't be the Crown Prince if Sage was alive would he.**

**Lots of new characters in the later chapters so stay tuned.**

* * *

Celaena wiped her tears a while later and sat up. "I want you and Dorian to see this," she said softly. She took his hand and led him unerringly back to the mirror room. Past the carefully lit torches, burgundy gilt walls, and lush carpeting. Dorian, who lay languidly on one of the many cushy divans, jumped up as soon as they arrived.

"Are you-" Celaena held up a hand.

"I am fine," she said smiling painfully. "I want you and Chaol to see this." Celaena walked over to the mirror and sighed, exhaling. She contracted her hand into a fist and smoothed a finger over her amethyst absentmindedly. The words were forced out of her decidedly unwilling mouth." Terrasen's downfall." There was a slight pause, then, the fog extended its filmy tentacles, covering the mirror's shiny surface and they were gone.

A man stood in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield. The discordant clashing of blades and agonized cries of the dead and wounded rose, calling out to the heavens. The bitter, harsh sting of the north wind howled, echoing in their misery and suffering.

He was poised in the centre of in all, watching with an amused smile. The king of Adarlan. The king was much younger and his face shone with perspiration as he swung his sword efficiently cutting through rank after rank of Terrasen soldiers. The sharpened, bloodstained steel took the head off a soldier dressed in silver. Crimson droplets arced through the empty space. The king only laughed, manically carving a catastrophic path of destruction through the enemy lines.

Meanwhile, the repeated assault of the battering ram rattled the palace gates until, finally, they burst open. Adarlan soldiers roared in unison and with increasing fervour slashed with their swords until there was an opening. They stormed the entrance.

Dorian and Chaol watched in horror as the dead built up. They spared no one. Terrasen soldiers and guards, all slaughtered. Even those not part of the battle: servants, courtiers and nobles, even children were annihilated. It was a massacre. All innocents, butchered.

The bodies grew in number, constructing a crude garden of red and black. The gold-veined marble floors ran with rivulets of copper scented liquid. The acrid tang was permeable, through the mirror. Blank stares of the dead lay watching, haunting witnesses to the terrible sins wrought upon them.

The ringing of steel against steel eventually faded away. Not a whisper of life dared stir. The palace was eerily silent, so lifeless. A pair of Adarlan soldiers stood guard before a set of whitewood doors. Bloodstained cloth rustled, crackling as they shifted uncomfortably gazing uneasily at the garden of bodies.

"We are going to be cursed for sure," murmured one of the guards finally, voice cracking. "The Fae are never going to forget this. " The other guard flinched.

"Don't say that. The king is going to track them down and finish them off. No Fae, no curse."

"The Fae are immortal. They are going to haunt us all and-"

The sound of boots clomped down a hallway instantaneously silenced the guards on duty. They straightened as the boots stopped in front of the doors. The soldiers immediately bowed low saluting a brisk greeting.

"Your Majesty," They chorused in unison. The king nodded and looked to the whitewood door curling his lip in disgust. Elegant carvings of the Great White Stags covered them, the royal seal of Terrasen.

"Where's my son," he growled.

"Here, Father." A young man joined the king, his tunic shredded and blood splattered. The king fixed his glare onto him. The man met the king's glower with a cool smirk. Sage. Dorian recalled the man's vivid green eyes. Even now, he could recognize his long dead older brother.

"You came late," the king snarled. Sage gave the king a haughty grin and shrugged slowly.

"I still came didn't I?" Sage asked bored. "Can we go in yet?" The king glared at his son's disdainful tone but nodded at the soldiers standing guard who were watching the scene wide-eyed. The doors eased open without sound, somehow more ominous than if it had groaned. They marched in.

The throne room was the same as in the first one, with Celaena. The royal couple knelt on the marble floor grimly, shackles firmly in place around their wrists and ankles. They both stared ahead unflinchingly, held at sword point. The king and queen watched the Adarlan king approach, faces stone still. They didn't even blink as soldiers streamed in behind Sage.

Sage issued a sharp order and the soldiers fanned out around the room. The Terrasen king cocked a brow. "Is that it?"

"Are you not afraid at all?" Dorian's father asked amused. King Nikolai tilted his head, mockingly confused.

"Am I supposed to be?" The Adarlan king gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Perhaps you might rethink that when we slowly kill your beautiful wife." He leered at Queen Leyana. She gazed at the enemy king coolly.

"You will find that killing me will be hard to do indeed." Sage looked ready to blow.

"Shut your mouth if you want to live," he snarled. "You should show respect to your new king." Leyana squinted in Sage's direction. He immediately backed away.

"Your nasty spells won't work on m-me." The slight quaver in his voice betrayed his bravado, but the Fae queen merely smiled serenely and tucked her shackled hands into the many folds of her dress.

"King? What king?"

Sage lunged, his sword pointing straight to her heart. Before the young prince could get to her though, Leyana removed her hands from the folds of her skirts. She cupped her hands together and closed her eyes, concentrating. A single cream coloured frangipani bloomed, unfurling slowly revealing its ethereal, but simple beauty. The queen caressed the delicate petals gently.

"Come, touch," she spoke lightly. Sage said nothing. He stared at the bloom with a uneasy fascination, sword lowering. Leyana raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for?"

Face hardening, Sage hoisted his scimitar and looked to his father. The king dipped his head in a silent affirmative. Sage turned back to the queen. The blade lifted. Leyana closed her eyes, hands still outstretched with the blossom. A small offering.

The sword never came down.

* * *

**Reviews are welcome. PLEASE, please REVIEW. It's really easy to review. Just take a few seconds to write a few words, okay guys?  
Thanks.**

**~Silverleaf~**


	6. The Starcrossed Lovers

**So...**

**I know I haven't updated in a while but I'm not sure if I should continue this story cuz obviously, if you have read Crown of Midnight already, you would know that Celaena is an only child. IF you want to read a more realistic portrayal of Celaena and her past, go to my other fanfic, Regrets. It should explain a lot more. I based most of that story on the tiny bits of info, I gathered from sources talking about Queen of Glass so it might still be different from the actual series but us fanfic writers can't exactly guess what the author will do. But enough of my blabbing. **

**New Characters: Anastaji Brannon, Celaena's older sister**

** Brigan Brannon, Celaena's older brother**

** Fain Brannon, Celaena's younger brother**

**I NEED advice. Tell me via review if I should continue Mirror Memories. Pretty please? *bats eyelashes***

* * *

"No!" came a cry, and a slender body flashed in front of the Terrasen queen. Sage came to an abrupt halt chest heaving. His forest green eyes widened at the young woman crouched protectively in front of Leyana.

The queen didn't seem to have expected the late arrival either. She started from her kneeling position, but a soldier flicked his sword to her bared throat. "Anastaji," the queen whispered, "I told you to run." The girl replied, her burnished amber eyes unwavering from Sage's flashing green ones.

"You out of all people should know I never listen to you. Didn't think I would start now." The young woman was the very image of Queen Leyana. The same gleaming ebony tresses, brilliant gold eyes and graceful features. Amber eyes ablaze, she stared at Sage.

"Ana," he whispered grief and anger mingling in his tone. He didn't seem to believe she was right in front of him. Sage stretched a hand toward the girl, trembling slightly. "Ana."

"Kill her," the king said flatly. Anastaji cringed, but still brushed Sage's hand with her own.

"Sage," she said softly. "Don't do this. You are better than that." Sage bit his lip, but his sword did not lower. Ana stepped closer sliding her arms around his waist ignoring the Adarlan king's frigid glare. Sage didn't respond to her embrace. He tensed, his fists clenching around the hilt of his sword.

"Sage," she breathed his name like a prayer. Ana pressed her face into Sage's chest and curled her fingers around his grip on the blade. Tears slipped down her face soundlessly. "Whatever you do...whatever happens," she paused drawing in a ragged breath, "Know that I will always love you." Ana tipped her head back and brushed a light kiss over his mouth.

Sage shuddered and dropped the sword with a clatter. His arms wrapped around her waist and he buried his face into her hair.

"Kill the princess," the king snapped. Sage stiffened and pulled away from Ana so fast, she stumbled. He gazed at the princess, face twisting with regret. "I said: Kill her," the king growled his patience wearing thin. Sage hesitated eyes flickering from Ana to his father.

His tormented visage said it all. The king threw his head back and laughed.

"You are in love with her too, aren't you my dear boy," he smirked. "When I asked you to get close to her, I didn't mean you should get obsessed with her as well." Anastaji paled and Sage stared at her in dismay. He shook his head in mute denial.

"Ana..."

"No," she whispered. "No." The princess staggered away from Sage almost collapsing onto the marble floor. She shook her head, shell-shocked. Her look of betrayal seemed to cut right through him. Sage sank to his knees, face pleading.

"It wasn't a charade! I swear. Please, Ana!" Anastaji laughed bitterly.

"And to think that I loved you. I forsook my whole family for you." She pressed a hand to her mouth. "I should have listened to Isensta. She knew. Of course she knew. She tried to warn me, but I didn't listen. I have been played for a fool and I betrayed my country for a player. Treason."

Sage reached for her but she flinched. "Don't you dare touch me, you dirty bastard," she snarled furiously wiping away the tears that kept falling.

The Adarlan king looked disgusted. "Sage. End this. Kill the princess. This is the last time I am going to ask this of you." Trembling, Sage picked up his sword. Anastaji took a quivering breath and closed her eyes.

Sage gazed at the princess and hefted the sword. Ana dipped her head awaiting the final blow. Sage inhaled and turned around. He flicked the point toward his father. His voice was one of deadly calm.

"I will not kill Ana. She is innocent. I would rather kill myself." The princess' eyes flashed open, face filling with shock.

"Sage! No!"

"So be it," the king growled. He unsheathed his sword and lunged for Ana. Sage leaped in front of her, his sword parrying his father's blade easily. The king disengaged.

"Traitor!" he hissed at his son.

"Better a traitor than a murderer," Sage growled. "I won't let you take Ana away from me." The Adarlan king smiled. He gestured to two of the soldiers and they restrained Sage.

"Fine. Then you know that a traitor's punishment is death." Sage didn't blink.

"I know perfectly." His father nodded and raised his sword. The blade slammed down and plunged into Anastaji's heart. Her eyes widened, almost comically confused as she stared down at her chest. Sage gaped at the grotesque scene in horror.

The king withdrew the sword with a sucking sound and Ana slumped to the floor hands clutching her chest. Leyana's scream of anguish vibrated throughout the hall and she fell down beside her daughter. King Nikolai stared down at his daughter with a resigned expression.

"It's too late," he said softly. Leyana cradled her daughter gently, tears pouring down her face. Her gold eyes thick with unmasked pain. Ana's usual bright amber eyes were clouded and the sightless orbs stared right at Sage. Leyana rocked her daughter crying.

"You killed her. You killed my daughter." Sage fell to his knees, dragging the soldiers down with his dead weight.

"She's not dead! Ana's not dead. She can't be dead!" he thrashed on the floor. "Get off of me you stupid bastards!" Sage kicked and punched the soldiers holding him. The guards gripped him tightly, faces grim.

The king glared at his son. "Shut your mouth," he barked. He strode over and yanked Sage's hair, jerking his head up baring his throat. The king palmed a dagger smiling harshly.

"You were always a poor excuse for a son but I never thought you would have guts to rebel against me directly. Love changes a lot of things, doesn't it?" The king smirked. Sage stilled as cold steel kissed his throat. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Utter pain shone in his eyes.

"It is so incredibly convenient that we are at war isn't it? I now have an excuse for your poor, poor mother when she sees your lifeless body. She will be heartbroken... but at least she has Dorian. We have Dorian. " The king corrected himself. "Dorian will replace you." Sage nodded.

"Dorian will make a good king. He's smarter than me at least. He'll eventually see right through you to the pulsing blackness. A poor excuse for a soul at any rate."

The king hissed. "I was going to forgive you," he gave his son a once-over. "Not anymore." Sage laughed sorrowfully.

"You branded me as a traitor. Even if you had let me live , where exactly would I go? No. I will not leave Ana. I will die by her side if that's what it takes to earn back her trust in the underworld. I love her. I can't- and I will not leave her. I will guard her body with my last breath and beyond." The king looked at Sage in distaste.

"So be it." The king slashed Sage's throat so fast Chaol and Dorian could hardly catch the movement. Sage's eyes widened and the light faded away to a dull gray. His body slumped to the marble, forever resting beside his beloved.

The king turned back to the royal couple. Their faces showed thinly veiled disgust.

"You would kill one of your own because of a petty betrayal?" King Nikolai asked, rage and grief plain on his face. He shook his head. "You are too far gone. We will not stop you. Do as you like."

The Adarlan king paused.

The double doors to the hall crashed open. A little boy stood at the entrance. He was no more than six years of age and his big cerulean eyes blinked as he took in the bloody scene. The child held two bloodied hunting knives, one pointed directly at the Adarlan king.

"You are the bad one," he stated, his high innocent voice at odds with his threatening demeanor. The queen blanched. "Fain," she whispered. The little boy-prince strode forward cautiously, nimbly avoiding the enemy soldiers, occasionally slashing with his knives when one got too close.

Prince Fain stared curiously at the Adarlan king. "Who are you?" The king smiled.

"I am your king." Leyana looked panicked.

"Fain. I want you to step away from that man." Fain cocked his head.

"He smells strange, Mother." The little prince sniffed gingerly. "Like soil and blood and rot." The queen stiffened.

"Like what?" she asked, her voice low. Her expression was deceptively calm. Fain wrinkled his nose.

"Like blood and decomposing flesh. Kind of like that of a dead body." Leyana paled. She examined the king, from the soles of his polished boots to his smooth black tunic. Her eyes caught the black ring on the Adarlan king's left hand.

"Been robbing the royal coffers, have you?" the queen asked unsmiling. "I never thought you would become so desperate for power that you would use your own lifeblood to practice black magic like this."

The king's smile stretched into a maniacal grin. "Guessed it already! What a smart woman." He reached out grabbing Leyana's chin. The king jerked her to face him.

"Don't touch her." Nikolai growled. The other king only smirked.

"You stole the black opal ring from the treasury. Don't you understand the consequences of using something like this? It's going to kill you."

The king backhanded her across the face. She was thrown to the marble floor. Her head hit the stone with a crack.

"Do not _ever_ question me. I am your king," he thundered. Leyana hissed, baring her teeth as she twisted her face to look up at the king.

"You will not survive the poison. You are eventually going to die like any other _mundane_," she spat out the words. "Your empire is going to fall by its fifteenth year. Mark my words, _human_."

Prince Fain hid behind the fierce queen and helped her up.

"Is he really practicing black magic, Mother?" he asked whimpering. Leyana brought her shackled hands up and stroked his blonde hair reassuringly. The left side of her face was copper from the force of the slap. She kept her watchful gaze on the enemy king.

"There is a prophecy about you, did you know that?" she said it casually, as if they were merely discussing the weather.

"I didn't get the chance to ask my daughter about it," Leyana's gaze fell on Princess Anastaji's prone form, "but there is one. Apparently you don't have the most tranquil ending, if you get my meaning." The king tensed. He understood.

Fain flicked his eyes toward his sister's prostrate figure. "Why is Ana on the floor?" His voice cracked. "Is she dead?"

The queen didn't answer but hugged her son to her side. She blinked back the glistening sheen of moisture in her eyes. It was already answer enough for Prince Fain. He began to bawl. Loudly. Leyana bit her lip.

"Shhh, darling. Be strong, Steel." She squeezed his fists between her hands. "You are a warrior." The cries didn't stop but they slowed. He sniffled, his glossy cobalt eyes boring right into the king's.

"You are evil. You don't deserve to live," Fain stated through blubbers. The Adarlan king looked through him, already bored. He turned away and waved a hand at the soldiers.

"Separate them," the king said disinterested. "This is pathetic." The soldiers looked at each other uncertain. "Quickly!" he snapped. The mercenaries rushed to carry out the order.

"Mommy! Mommy!" The little prince shrieked clinging stubbornly onto Leyana's arm. The queen held her son helplessly as the soldiers attempted to yank them apart.

King Nikolai took the distraction to disable his guards and rush to his wife and son. But before Nikolai could reach his family the enemy king stalked over and slashed a horizontal line across the boy's throat instantly silencing him. Blood bubbled up, staining the prince's white collared jacket. Leyana let go immediately, eyes horrified.

"Wasn't that your second son?" The king asked, smiling broadly. The queen stared at her deceased son blankly, un-processing. "I heard your other son died in the fire at Mage Academy the other night. You will not believe how sorry I was to hear it," he said false sympathy bleeding into his tone.

The queen let out a strangled scream.

"You were the one to start it. You knew the mages had no defense against elemental magic and you took advantage of it." The king shrugged.

"I used all the tools I had at my disposal."

"Brigan did nothing to you as did the other mages in the Academy. They were all innocent!"

"I banned magic from Erilea. The mages practice spirit magic. That's a direct offense against the law." Leyana laughed harshly.

"And the black arts are not magic?" The king smiled.

"The black arts have _power_. They are not magic. And besides, magic is dead and gone. It won't protect you now."

"Magic is not dead, only disappeared."

He gave the queen an indulgent expression. "It doesn't matter. There is nothing that will guard you now. Three of your children are dead," his voice lowered, "Your first child, Brigan, the seer Anastaji, even the little boy, Fain. He was, what? Five? We only need the younger princess to join us. I'll finish her off, then you and your husband can join them in the underworld." The king watched the queen with dark eyes.

"Where is she?" Nikolai's arms tightened around Leyana.

"Don't tell him," he whispered against her hair. "Isensta is safe. That's all that matters." Leyana looked up at the Adarlan king with resolve, her lips squeezed into a firm line. She clasped her trembling hands.

"You have already killed three of my children. I am not about to tell you the location of my fourth just so you can murder her as well." The king's eyes flashed, but Leyana kept quiet, wringing her hands together.

"Now is not the time to brave, Leyana. Where is Princess Isensta?" The queen shook her head eyes narrowed in defiance.

"I am here," came a calm voice from above.

* * *

**So what did you think? Reviews, please!**


	7. The Little Princess

**I don't know what you guys will think of how I made Celaena, she's a bit hardhearted/careless in this chapter. What do you think?**

* * *

Everyone looked up. Little Celaena sat casually on one of the ceiling arches chomping on an apple. She wore a tunic of dark cream with delicate gold thread embroidery. Her leather trousers were moulded to her slim legs and her knee high boots were polished to a blinding shine. A white cloak was clasped around her shoulders and it hung down in balanced folds.

"Heard you were looking for me," she said calmly. Celaena wore a slight half grin but her eyes were hard and serious. Her lustrous gold hair was unbound and it tumbled haphazardly down her back.

The king bared his teeth into a smile. "So the pampered princess finally gifts us with her presence, does she?"

Celaena shrugged. "I was busy," she said simply.

"Is that all you have as an explanation?" the Adarlan king demanded. "You missed the execution of your brother and sister. Do you not care at all?"

She gave another shrug. "Sometimes it's better to not care about things that you have no control over." The king was getting annoyed.

"Why don't you come down and we can talk eye to eye." Celaena cocked her head to the side.

"It's fine. I am pretty comfortable up here." She took another bite of the apple.

"As your King-"he began, but Celaena cut him off.

"You are not my king. No one rules over me. I govern myself," Celaena snapped without thinking. The king raised his eyebrows and looked toward King Nikolai. She smiled thinly. "That's my father. I see you've introduced yourself quite well." Celaena eyed the shackles in distaste. To her surprise, the king began to laugh.

"You have a considerable mouth. If your sister was anything like you she probably won't have fallen for my son." Celaena smiled icily.

"I wouldn't fall for any Havilliard, as handsome as they might be," she said pausing to give Sage an approving onceover. The king stared at her questioning. Celaena shrugged sheepishly. "What can I say? I am a girl at heart. One who likes pretty things, including people."

The king blinked at her, surprised. "You are only eight. You do realize that right?" His tone made it certain that he didn't regard her highly for this piece of information. Celaena grinned slyly.

"When you are the crown princess and have been getting marriage proposals for the last five years, you end up thinking a lot about the _qualifications_ of your suitors, do you not? Age doesn't seem to really make a difference with my many _admirers_." The king cocked his head.

"Was Sage one of them?" Celaena gave him a confused look. "Was Sage one of your _admirers_?" he put a special emphasis on the last word. She smirked.

"Would you have liked him to be?" she purred. " Although," she added, waving a careless hand toward Sage's dead body, "I can't say I care much for dead suitors. They smell horrible." Celaena wrinkled her nose and took a bite of apple. She dropped the core down near the king's boots. He leaped back with a sound of revulsion. Celaena stifled a laugh. The king glared up at her.

"This is not funny. We have made enough small talk. You better come down, _now_." Celaena's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I do, do I? How about a straightforward answer? No." The king's eyes flashed and he shook his head half smiling.

"You are bold, I'll give you that."

"They call me Briar Rose for a reason you know. Pretty but sharp." Celaena drawled.

The king tilted his head. "Indeed." He went silent for a moment. "I'll tell you what. I won't kill you yet. I'll give you until the morning." Celaena's brows rose.

"To what do I own this gift?" The king didn't answer but walked to the doors.

"You and your parents have till morning," he repeated. "My guards will escort you to your rooms after you reminisce. After all," the King of Adarlan smirked, "we wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

He stalked forward; his soldiers falling in step behind him. Two guards were posted outside the hall but the rest of the entourage vanished from view. After she deemed it safe, Celaena slammed soundlessly to the marble floor in a crouched position, her white cloak swirling around her. She locked the throne room doors hastily and turned to face her parents. Celaena seethed furiously into the silence.

"I am so sorry, little Star," Nikolai said finally into the crackling, angry silence. She turned on him so fast he flinched.

"Oh, sorry, are you," Celaena said mockingly. "You can tell that to all the subjects you just gave up on."

"Isensta," Leyana began.

"No." Celaena snapped raising a hand, as if to block the words. "You knew. You both knew the attack was going to take place today, and you sent me to Aunt Pagiel with the blank oh so important letter fully knowing that everyone was going to die." She shook her head. "You made sure I wouldn't be here when the this," she waved a hand over the hall, "happened."

"Is it so bad to want to protect your child from danger?" Leyana asked softly, defeated.

Celaena laughed then, harsh and cold. "How delightful. I'm an only child now, am I?" She smiled. It was a broken jagged thing. "What about Brigan? Fain? What happened to Anastaji? Are they not your kin? Your children? I am only one of four, mother. When did you decide that one child was worth more than the others?" The queen's face crumbled and the fallen king hissed out a breath.

"Isensta!" Nikolai said sharply. "Have some respect for your mother!" Celaena shifted her gaze to him, eyes glistening with anguish.

"Fain was only five, father! He has barely lived at all. Brigan was about to graduate from Mage Academy, as one of the their best and brightest. And Ana? Ana is a kinslayer." Celaena spat out the last words with venom. Nikolai opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Can't say anything to that, can you," she choked back a sob. "You out of all people should know about Seer Ana's betrayal. She opened the palace gates for Adarlan at her_ lover's_ command. She caused the deaths of everyone in the castle. And for what? So she and Sage could be together. Ana had most to gain from this invasion anyway. If Adarlan had won and conquered Terrasen, the king would have eventually died and passed the throne off to Prince Sage. And you know that Sage would have married Ana. It's obvious. Ana would have become queen of both Adarlan and Terrasen."

"You would say that about your own sister, Star?" Leyana challenged. "Ana is your elder."

"I wouldn't have to say it if it weren't true." Celaena straightened her eyes holding Leyana's. "I warned her. Sage works for his father. He is his father's son. Why should Ana trust him?" Celaena shook her head. "But she didn't listen. She was too love-struck to do anything but stare at the ceiling and moon over his pretty green eyes. Even at the last moment when everything was falling apart she chose him over us. Nobody decided for her. And as if destroying Terrasen was not enough, she _had _to lead the Adarlan forces to Uncle Aspen's summer estate. Aunt Teresa; your own sister, Uncle Aspen and your beloved niece, Daray were slaughtered in their beds!"

"I know that," the queen snapped. Celaena cocked a brow.

"Do you really? Because I don't think you understand very well. If I was here when this happened Terrasen might have had a chance against Adarlan, _that_ I know you comprehended."

"You are merely eight, Isensta, and a little girl at that." Nikolai sighed. "You won't understand war."

"Oh, I understand very well. I may be a little eight year old girl but I am a little eight year old girl with smarts. You can't deny that. Not when I have finished all my studies before the age of seven. You even slotted me into the King's Council on my eighth birthday. So don't say I don't understand war, father. It is not a complex subject to grasp. Not when you are me."

"I know you are intelligent but-"

"There are no buts, father. You and mother made a bad decision with sending me to Aunt Pagiel but we can't change that now. Death is on our doorstep." Celaena slumped down to the floor. "Or actually make that, just right outside the hall."

Nikolai tried to smile, but failed miserably. "You were always a bit brazen." Celaena's lips curved up slightly.

"Only a bit?"

The king relented."Fine. Maybe a lot."

There was a peaceful silence.

Then, the doors opened with a crash. Celaena turned around serenely, her cloak fluttering with her graceful movement while Nikolai and Leyana clambered to their feet, shackles clanking. Their expressions were carefully composed.

Seven guards strode in, mail and armor clanking ominously. "You are to come with us," the grave tone of the captain sparking a vague hint of fear into Celaena's eyes. But she only inclined her head, a practiced elegant movement that hinted of court trained charisma. She lifted her head slightly while her demure gaze remained trained to the marble, an artificially submissive expression painted on her face.

"Are my parents coming as well?" she asked in a timid voice. The guards exchanged glances.

"Your parents may come too if they please." The captain said.

"We do please." Nikolai said flatly.

"Fine," the Captain sighed irritably. The soldiers took their places at either side of the royals. Two reached for Celaena but she held her ground resolutely.

"That will not be necessary. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own, thank you." The guards hesitated looking toward their captain. His gaze caught Celaena's and held. Whatever he had seen in her features gave him pause, but he eventually nodded brusquely. The captain impatiently waited for his soldiers to restrain the royal couple. Not that the royals needed any restraining. The usurped king and queen looked at their daughter emotionlessly, a placid mask firmly in place.

They set off. Past the beautifully carved whitewood doors, the rivers of crimson blood that Celaena nimbly step-sided and the bodies of innocents, the smell of rotting flesh and decay, blood and despair.

Their footsteps echoed through the still palace. The royals didn't blink twice at the carnage even though the pain and sorrow in their faces were plain to see. They stopped at the royal apartments and shoved Leyana and Nikolai in the master's suite.

"Don't try anything," the Captain growled the warning. Celaena opened the door to her own room and shut the door, but not before she caught a glimpse of the Adarlan soldiers that were posted outside her bedroom door .

She heaved a deep breath and sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. Exhaustion, anguish and resignation played a game of tug-of-war over her delicate features.

Celaena stepped into her rooms, a large apartment that consisted of a bedroom with a luxurious adjoining bathing chamber and lavish dressing room. Other rooms include a small dining room, sitting parlor, and training hall. A multitude of sharp weapons were hung on walls with a little antechamber off to the side that stored healing supplies, armor and other equipment and ammunition.

As was the throne room, Celaena's living quarters were dominated by Terrasen colours, cream and gold. Subtle elegance. Her rooms were not a show of wealth and station, more of a understated grandeur. Celaena unclasped her snow white cloak and flung it on a plush caramel velvet armchair. The fabric fluttered down to settle in graceful folds.

She moved toward her balcony and Celaena quickly peeked down. Guards were stationed everywhere. Holding in a sigh, she quietly crawled up the railing, the designs running up and down the masonry giving Celaena a slight ledge in which to push up herself up. She grabbed for a long stretch of knotted ivy a few feet up the wall but it snapped in her grasp.

Celaena wobbled dangerously for a moment before she gave in to gravity. She fell back down to her balcony with a stifled scream and thump. She peered down between the gaps in the banister, her face a few shades paler. None of the guards seemed to have heard and Celaena heaved a silent breath in relief. She looked up and shuddered hugged her knees to her chest.

"You were very, very lucky this time Isensta. Could you be even stupider as to try that a second time? You would have died," she berated herself. "Idiot." Celaena stood up slowly working out the sore spots on her back. She stretched, wincing slightly as she tugged herself higher.

There was a sharp knock at the door. Celaena froze, momentarily panicked, her arms still in the air. She lowered her arms, brows furrowed. Celaena stepped into her apartment foyer, her supple leather boots gliding fluidly on the hard marble floor, with only the smallest of sounds. She cracked open the door cautiously, aquamarine eyes peering from the opening, scanning the person behind it.

"Dinner," said the gruff voice of the soldier before shoving open the door with a strong arm. Celaena stumbled as the large weight pressed her back, but quickly regained her balance. She glared daggers at her rough guard, but took the silver tray. She shut the doors with a sharp backward kick and brought the platter into her bedroom. She set it down on the dresser.

The food sent steam wafting in Celaena's direction but she merely grimaced turning her back on it. Not that it wasn't appetizing. The smoked salmon seasoned with basil and thyme looked absolutely delicious. The vaguely spicy scent of black pepper mingled with the minty, citrusy fragrance of the other herbs to create a masterpiece of aroma. She finally sat down and picked up her fork. The silver glimmered, catching the candlelight.

Celaena gripped the eating utensil hard, her knuckles whitening. She squeezed her eyes shut, shining droplets of salt forming under each lid. The tears overflowed tracing a slow descent over Celaena's pale, angular cheeks. She dropped the fork with a clatter her hands going up to cover her face as she sobbed soundlessly.

* * *

**Reviews are very, very welcome. :)**


	8. Underestimated

**This chapter is rather short and messy. I wrote it real quick and didn't edit. Sorry guys. I don't really know how to end this fanfic. It ****_is_**** coming to an end though. :( Maybe one or two more chapters. Should I write a memory on Endovier? What do you guys think?**

* * *

Her shoulders shuddered with each heavy breath and Celaena's thick hair fell down to shroud her appearance. Grief and anguish lined every delicate feature. She sniffled and let her hands grip the dresser with ferocious strength. Celaena swept her arm in a flash, her sleeves catching on the various objects on its surface. Bottles and vials hurtled to the marble floor, instantly shattering on impact. The cacophonous clash of breaking glass did nothing to bring the guards in the room. Why would it matter if their charge dies? She is as good as dead anyway.

But there was no sound coming from Celaena. A few bits of sharp glass had embedded itself onto her leather trousers, blood welling up, staining the glass shrapnel. Celaena didn't seem to notice. What caught her attention was the salmon. She quickly wiped her tears and picked up her fork, a look of intense concentration appearing on her face. Celaena poked at the salmon and sniffed subtly. Her eyes widened and she pushed herself away hastily, her chair screeching across the floor. Horrified she glanced toward the door, her hands clenching into fists. "Poisoning me, are you?" she murmured, a savage, wicked expression immediately forming. "You have no idea what you are getting into old man."

She opened the door to her bedroom with an innocent, tragic countenance. Celaena let her lips tremble, more tears forming. She extended the tray with a downturned visage. The guards merely stared at her. "I-I, I can't eat this. It turns my stomach. I won't be needing food anyway. Here, take it. I can't look at this anymore. Eat it if you like. I hope you choke on it." Celaena's tears slipped down again and she slammed the door and ran back into her bedroom. Celaena wiped the fake tears away. "They are as gullible as Aedion. The poor things won't be able to resist," Celaena said to herself smirking.

She took a canvas bag from under her bed, hurriedly stuffing essential items in. Drawers slid open and shut with a soft swishes. Celaena neatly danced around the broken glass on the floor as she swung from room to room. She entered the training hall antechamber to retrieve bandages and hard liquor for disinfectant. Outside the guards were still arguing with each other for the platter of salmon. Smiling at the soldiers' whispered antics, Celaena bent over her leg and got to work. Tweezers plucked the broken glass from her skin, although none of the wounds were big enough to need stitches, thank the gods. Celaena took a clean rag and wet it with the liquor. She then pressed the wet cloth to the lacerations. Celaena gritted her teeth against the burn while eyeing the alcohol with a longing expression. If only she could dull the pain even a bit. Collapse into a liquor induced haze and never get up. Forget everything. But that was a selfish thought.

Once she had bandaged her leg she slipped back into her white and gold bedroom to fetch another cloak. Her white one, though well made, was all too visible. She recovered a black capote from deep within her dresser. The collar, as well as the inner fabric and sleeves were lined with fur the keep the wearer warm. "Perfect," she whispered. Celaena, hearing no noise from the guards eased open the door warily, and smirked. The guards were slumped against the wall, the silver tray lay between them half-eaten. She scurried out soundlessly and ducked into the servants stairs.

There weren't enough guards to be stationed properly throughout the palace so the guards were only near the main entrances and halls. Celaena took the stairs up toward the Opal Tower where she knew her parents had their rooms. She ignored the bodies , occasionally leaping nimbly over one in her path. There were four guards stationed around the Opal Tower and she took them out one by one, striking the two points on their neck that rendered them unconscious. They all thought that as a group they could easily overwhelm the pretty rich girl and didn't bother sounding the alarm. The resulting fight was fast and deadly. The guards fell one by one sagging to the gold-veined marble. The final guard looked at her with a horrified expression, but Celaena merely bared her teeth in a grin and lunged. The guard swept his sword toward her head, meaning to behead her, but Celaena bent back. The blade passed overhead slicing though air. Celaena dropped to the ground slipping though his poor defenses. The man faltered, staggering with the momentum of his missed strike and she lashed out at his legs. He didn't have time to raise his sword in defence before Celaena knocked him out cold like his companions with two swift jabs to the neck. Celaena stood and inspected her work.

Pretty rich girl indeed. Of course the guards didn't know that she was trained in self defense by one of the best generals in history. Her cousin Aedion Ashryver. She was his best student. What did the guards expect? That she would wait for death, meek and submissive? Celaena snorted and laboriously dragged her victims into a shadowed alcove. She bound them with rope and locked them in the room. That was better than killing them at least.

She opened the door to her parents' rooms. Everything was dark, shadowy. Suddenly thunder crashed making Celaena jump. She closed the doors and strode into the bedroom where her mother and father lay sleeping. A wave of lethargy washed over her and she stifled a yawn. The window was wide open and rain poured in by the gallons. Grumbling softly, she went to the window and closed it. Escape will come in the morning. For now though...Celaena slumped into bed between her parents, savoring their closeness. She hadn't slept with her parents since she was a infant. Celaena snuggled closer, wincing at the dampness of the sheets. Curse the stupid, winter rain. Her lids grew heavy and Celaena sighed drowsy. Darkness came to me quickly transporting me into the land of dreams.

* * *

**Reviews are very welcome!**

** Note: Aedion is the cousin of Celaena.**


	9. Lovers of Death

**The second last chapter. I want to cry. One more chapter, then Mirror Memories is finished. :(**

* * *

_Celaena opened her eyes to find her body cloaked in shadow. A wet and sticky substance coated her arms and legs, tightening as it dried. The liquid was almost black in the dim light, but the darkness was not enough to disguise the red hue. _

_ Blood. _

_ With rising panic, she spun around. Looking, searching, scanning her surroundings for what exactly? Celaena couldn't see. The world around her was black and oppressive, a wall of black closing in. She couldn't breathe. Celaena's feet were moving without her consent and she stared down at the phantom limbs, but she still couldn't see. The darkness pressed upon her chest as she gasped for breath, running, running, running. Celaena was running? Why would she be running? What was she running from? Celaena whipped her head around, her hair catching on her face. Red eyes gleamed from the pitch black shade, undulating tendrils of slimy rope catching on Celaena's face, arms, legs. She screamed and thrashed but it wouldn't let go. They tightened, and tightened, and- There was a low laugh and the tentacles curled over her neck, a clammy, glutinous noose. Game over, princess. Sleep tight. _

_ Forever._

Celaena's eyes snapped open and she sat up with a gasp, cold sweat pooling in the hollow of her back as she panted. Just a nightmare. She looked around the room. Her parent's room. The Opal Tower. The highest structure in all of Terrasen, made entirely of pure white opal. It was said that this tower contained the all the light of Orynth because when the sun shone on it, the tower would reflect the rays, illuminating the whole skyscraper with a brilliance as dazzling as the stars themselves. During the day, you could often see it glimmering from miles and miles away. And she was at the very top of it.

The window she had shut the night before, let the dappled morning light in. Dawn was approaching. Pink, red, and orange rays grew in size, easily eclipsing the stars of the night. Clouds dotted the horizon. She could practically sense the chilly snow that would come with it. Just a nightmare she had told herself. Then why did her heart pounded like so? Surely the erratic beat should've calmed down by now. She put a trembling hand to her heart keeping her gaze on the distant sky beyond. The same sticky substance covered her hand and body as it had in her dream. Her hair hung in lanky strips around her face and Celaena brushed it back, her fingers combing through damp, congealed matter. She swallowed hard, a stinging weight forming behind her eyes . Don't look, she chanted internally. _Don't_ look. Celaena shifted in bed, almost letting loose a sob as she felt the same dried, crinkling texture on her tunic and trousers.

"Please, no," she whispered. Begging to the gods, begging to anyone who would understand, listen and declare this another dream, another nightmare. "Please," Celaena whimpered. "No." _Don't look_, her mind said, _you'll regret it. You will be forever scarred_. But of course she looked, she had to look. To confirm the reality of what had happened. Her punishment for being stupid, so utterly stupid. And with that Celaena looked. And she stared, and stared, and stared, biting her lip so to avoid drawing the guards in with her screaming.

She looked at her parents, clothed in their own blood, their slashed throats grinning up at her. It was a mocking smile. It was them. The gods. Laughing at her own stupidity. Because she was a idiotic, fool of a princess. An arrogant, spoiled excuse for a human. She stifled a sob, then another. Why wasn't she dead, like her mother, like her father? She deserved it. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Celaena backed away from the bed tumbling off of it at the edge. She landed on the carpet with sprawled limbs. Blood. Blood covered her body smothering her. The putrid scent of rotted flesh finally cut through the blinding haze of nothing in her mind and she gagged, retching.

Celaena ran for the bathroom and fell to her knees beside the chamber pot. She heaved and heaved and heaved until nothing came out. Celaena dropped to the floor, tears flowing and dropping one by one onto the cool marble floor. She pressed her face to the cold, ivory bathtub which lessened the heat of her cheeks. Celaena gripped the stone with bruising force, wanting to rip it apart with her hands. Crush the castle and turn it to rubble. But enough was enough and Celaena's pain, agony or capture won't bring her parents back. She hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly. Celaena righted herself firmly, determination coating her visage. Hope for a fresh start shone on her face, a far cry from her previous anguish and misery.

Celaena collected her bags and opened the doors to the room. A man stood on the threshold smiling. "Well, what have we here?" he drawled. He was dressed in all black and Celaena paled as she noticed the sword leveled at her heart. The assassin grinned at her, gold eyes flashing. "A little runaway princess. Did you see the present I left you?" He glanced at the room beyond and smirked. Celaena staggered and braced an arm on the doorpost, horror and shock staining her features.

"You-you killed my parents." It wasn't a question. The man dimpled. How dare he act like this was all fine and dandy. Her mother and father were _dead_. Celaena wanted to strangle him with her bare hands. He read the bloodlust and murder in her features and laughed.

"Bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you," he said leering, "and what a pretty girl as well. Lucky child. Bet you aren't feeling especially lucky now." Celaena snarled her fury and she would have lunged and ripped out his throat, his eyes, his limbs, one by one if not for the sword he weld between them. He stepped forward and Celaena backed up. "It was a shame I missed killing you last night. My employer was quite dissatisfied. So dissatisfied in fact that he failed to pay me. I'm here now to right the mistake. And just in time I see." The assassin eyed the bags Celaena held. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes, actually, and if you would excuse me," She made to slip around him but he blocked and lifted the sword so the razor sharp edge lined her throat. Celaena stilled. She knew that tactic wouldn't have worked but she attempted it anyway to make sure. The man's gold eyes hardened.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I swore to my client that I would take out the Brannon line and I don't intend to disappoint. Again." Celaena tilted her throat away from the stinging point. She felt a drop of blood trickle down the slender gash, courtesy of the assassin's weapon. Her mouth curled into a feral smile. Celaena knew she probably looked like the devil itself with the blood and gore coating her body like a second skin. Not to mention the blank, animalistic way she regarded him.

"Your employer. The king of Adarlan," she said tracking his every move with savage, wild eyes. The assassin quickly grew uncomfortable with her harsh, unrelenting focus.

"Yes, the king."

Celaena grinned, showing her teeth. "I thought he said he would give till morning." He sighed at her naivete.

"Then you should have figured out he lied," the assassin snapped growing tired of this game. Celaena nodded.

"That he did." She gave him another eerie smile. The princess looked deranged, and she dropped her bags, the only warning she gave him before she charged. She step sided a wild swipe, as the assassin made to separate her head from her body. "Too slow," she purred. Celaena knocked his arm aside with a sharp jab from her elbow, and using his shoulders for support, sent her feet crashing into his middle.

The assassin was slammed out the door and crashed into the stairway banister. He lay there crumpled and wheezing, gasping for breath. The sword skittered across the marble floor, the shining blade reflecting the sun's rays from an open window, projecting an array of multicolored lights over the beige walls. Celaena landed on her feet in a crouched position. The prostrate assassin eyeballed the sword, now so far away. She let out a single, abrupt laugh.

"Don't even think about it," the warrior princess hissed. Celaena stalked forward, pausing only to grasp the pommel of the sword. She hefted the weighty weapon and examined the honed blade. "You know what I hate more than liars?" Celaena asked in a sweet, conversational tone. Her face was as hard and as brittle as glass. "People who hurt those I love." And with that she angled the sword point down.

"Please..." the assassin rasped. He swallowed. "I have a wife, a little boy your age," Celaena's expression didn't change. "They need me to provide for them. Please." He held up a pleading hand. A truce. An offer of peace. Celaena cocked an eyebrow.

"You are telling me not to kill you because you have family," she said, a mocking tone clearly evident. "Did I not have family before you slaughtered the last of them?" The assassin flinched.

"Orders," he whispered. "If I hadn't the king would have killed my family as well. Made me watch as they hung from the gallows." Celaena laughed, a harsh sound.

"In other words, you are telling me you killed my parents to save your own hide. How is that going to help your cause exactly?" He cringed, trembling.

"You're just an eight year old girl. You are not going to kill me." Celaena gave him a disgusted onceover.

"Why are you shaking then? And for your information, it is never a good thing to tell me what not to do. It gives me the inclination to do the opposite." She lowered her voice into a soft murmur. "You know how eight year old children are, you have one yourself. They are quite impulsive." Celaena's grin widened as a look of panic crossed the assassin's face. He extended an out stretched hand as if to beg, but it curled into a fist. She frowned at his shameless self-preservation and made to plunge the sword into his heart.

He opened his hand. There was a flash of silver. A thud of steel entering flesh. A spatter of blood. The assassin made repulsed expression and flinched away from the droplets of blood that stained his face and arms, but his hand was still and calm as it lowered from Celaena's chest. She stared at him with wide eyes, disbelief, shock, incredulity. Then, gazed at her front. The hilt of a ornate dagger protruded, seeming to be an artfully made simulation. If only it was. Blood poured down drenching Celaena's tunic.

She staggered, almost collapsing with pain as she backed away. The pain, radiating outwards from her breast. Fire sizzling through her veins, burning, burning, physical agony. She stifled a scream as she pressed a hand around the foreign object in her body. _It was not supposed to be there_, her body screamed in denial. The assassin watched her with a sad expression. _Your death was inevitable, inescapable. The gods have chosen your fate_, his expression seemed to say. Tears blurred the assassin's face from her and she stumbled back into the Opal Tower, one painful step at a time.

When she died, it will be right next to her parents. She hesitated at the windowsill. A portal that displayed Orynth in its entirety. From the palace top, to the castle gates. To the long, winding river that ran in front of the castle, its ever constant companion. To the sparkling bronze tiled roofs of pavilions, estates, shops. Celaena leaned her forehead against the frosty glass, the stab wound now just a dull ache. Her ragged breaths fogged the glass. To the green, lush Oakwald forest to the right, and the frigid, unyielding mountains that surrounded it all. A place so close, yet too far away. Her home.

She pressed her bloody fingers to the window, staining it crimson. Celaena pushed harder and she felt something give. The shutters swung open with barely a whine, and the harsh winter wind brushed in along with the first hint of snow. Snowflakes danced in, waltzing in the elegant way they could. She looked down and watched the river move. Fast and deadly.

The River Florine acted both as a protector and a killer. It had shielded the palace from invasion for generations, but Adarlan was the one enemy it couldn't defeat. Celaena climbed laboriously onto the rim and gazed at the foaming, rushing waters. She could feel her life slipping out of her grasping hands no matter how desperately she held onto it. Funny how water can be both give life and take life. You need it to live, but don't want too much for fear of it killing you. The assassin joined her, but didn't say anything. He watched her quietly off to the side.

Celaena turned her head to face him. He bowed, and with that she dropped out of sight.

She fell, the rushing waters grew steadily closer. Celaena entered the freezing, frothing waves with a splash. She tumbled down, down , down, the river closing over her head. No air. Darkness hinted at the edges of her vision. Her lungs burned as she used up the last of her oxygen supply. Then, nothing. She couldn't feel anything. No pain or fear. Smiling, the crown princess of Terrasen closed her eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.

The assassin watched in silence as the princess fell into the half-frozen river. He doubted she would live for long with all the blood she had lost, and that's not even factoring in the temperature of the water... but it was the only gift he could bestow. After all, he did let her go. He hoped she would survive. He hoped with all his heart. Because if she lived, well, at least the world had hope that the king could be defeated someday if not today. With one last glance below, the assassin spun on his heel and left the tower.

* * *

**Reviews as always people! Thanks!**


	10. A Second Chance

**The end of Mirror Memories. *sobs***

* * *

Whispers greeted Celaena as she lazily came into consciousness. Strangers. She kept her eyes closed, breaths even and slow. "She is a lucky, lucky girl," a kind, deep voice rumbled.

"Indeed," another voice replied. Articulate and calculated. Educated. "If the dagger had shifted just a few inches to the left..." he paused, contemplating the odds. "She would have died for sure."

"Who do you think did this to her? The poor thing. And such a pretty girl too. No one deserves that kind of death." A hand lightly brushed her hair to the side, smoothing the stray hairs down in rhythmic stokes. "Do you think she was..." he trailed off.

"Touched inappropriately? Perhaps. But at least she's alive. The wound missed the heart, it only punctured a bit of the lung, thank the gods. She should be waking soon anyway." Celaena shifted a bit and groaned. There was a throbbing sting where the dagger pierced her, but other than that, the men did a good job of patching her up.

"And our sleeping beauty awakes. Are you alright?" Celaena peeled open her eyes haltingly as to let her eyes adjust to the bright candlelight. She lay on a dark green canopy bed. Gossamer silk throw pillows were scattered artfully around the mattress and she was being smothered by heavy feather down sheets. Celaena batted the fabric away from her face and struggled to sit up. Her body gave one unified painful throb as all her bones and muscles worked against her. She fell back onto the bed with a gasp, gritting her teeth against the miserable tenderness of her skin. She felt as if a horse had run her over.

"Here, let me help you." Gentle but impossibly powerful arms lifted her smoothly, effortlessly into a sitting position. Celaena's blue, gold eyes flickered over the two men at her bedside. The man that had helped her gave her an awkward smile probably meant to seem reassuring. But Celaena didn't let down her guard. From the moment she had woken up here, she had know that she was at a disadvantage. She didn't know anything. Celaena didn't know the men that had healed her. Didn't know where she was, or what had happened since... Let's not dwell on that.

The man who smiled at her was in his early twenties. Handsome with warm brown eyes that radiated a sweet compassionate sorrow. A man who had seen many things and heard much more. He would have been pleasant... if not for the fact that he was currently pitying her. Celaena clenched her jaw. She absolutely despised being felt sorry for. Her life was none of their business.

The other man though... He was the most gorgeous creature she had even seen. Celaena's eyes widened and, well, she was probably gawking in the most unladylike manner, but she didn't care. Cold, unfeeling silver-gray eyes flashed at her, in them a wealth of knowledge. But there was also a dangerous vibe to the way he examined her, like she was prey, a mouse to a lion. While he would not be described as heartrendingly stunning, the man had a undeniable aura of authority and allure that Celaena found intriguing. She was not attracted to him in _that_ way, obviously. She had seen her fair share of handsome men and they had all eventually disappointed her. But she did admire the way he held himself. All his movements were smooth and graceful, elegant and swift. He moved like a predator.

She liked that.

A slow smile spread across her face. "It is my pleasure to meet you both," Celaena lilted in a soft musical voice. Standard court speech. "Though I wish we hadn't crossed paths in such a unfortunate manner." She paused cocking her head in a demure maiden fashion. "I -I don't exactly think I caught your names?"

The smiling man looked to Silver-eyes. He gave him a nod and the other man disappeared though the door with a slight bow in her direction. "My name is Arobynn Hamel," the remaining man said calmly. "And that was my second in command, Ben." Celaena inclined her head in greeting to hide her shock. Arobynn. The King of Assassins. What was she doing here?

"I supposed you know my name already," she said with a raised brow, after she had properly masked her rampant expressions. Arobynn smiled slightly and conceded with a nod.

"I do have a guess in mind, though I wonder what would have forced Terrasen's crown princess into a half-frozen river." Celaena gave him a tight smile, and gestured to her chest.

"I'm sure you have your suspicions. After all, it shouldn't be too hard to guess what had happened. I'm sure you had heard many rumors about the massacre of the Terrasen royal family." He shrugged.

"Just a bit. They all say that Isensta Brannon is dead, though they never found the body. I wonder what happened there and how you came to be, floating face down in the Florine River. It _is_ winter, as I'm sure you realize."

"I have no reason to tell _you_ anything."Arobynn only smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was still, cold, angry, a statue.

"As you are not familiar with the ways of interacting with assassins, shall I remind you to never say 'no'?" Celaena blinked.

"For me to say 'yes', you would need to ask me a question, and you did not." Celaena pinched the covers and rubbed the fabric with her thumb and index finger thoughtfully. "And also, as you are not familiar with court etiquette, shall I remind you that a man should not enter the bedchamber of a princess and interrogate the royal, threatening her life." Celaena's gaze rose and held the assassin's steadily. To her surprise, Arobynn gave one sharp laugh.

"Fine. Then I'll ask you this one question," he speared her with an intense look. "Will it please your highness to train as an assassin?" She froze, mouth opening, but no sound came out. Arobynn ignored her silence and continued. "You cannot go back to Terrasen even if I let you go free, which I won't," he said with a stern glance. "You are in Rifthold at present, the centre of Adarlan's empire. If you run, you won't get far before the king's minions kill you. If you run from me, the consequences from me or the king will not be pretty." His voice softened at Celaena's frightened expression. "If you accept my offer, you will be fed and clothed properly, paid for your missions-though part of the money will go to me-and trained to be one of the world's best assassins. You will have your revenge on Adarlan with the kills you make, a definite bonus for you I'm sure. You will have a second chance at life, a different identity. The no one will ever hear from Isensta Brannon again. Instead Adarlan and its empire will come to fear an assassin. Adarlan's Assassin. I am offering you a way out of death."

Arobynn's voice was a soft persuasive whisper. The promises he offered. Celaena trembled and kept her gaze on the carved rosewood bed frame. "And if I decline?" Celaena kept her expression neutral, calm and blank. She needed to hear the answer. An alternative to murder. The sheen vanished from his eyes.

"If you do not take the offer, you will be sent to the king and left for dead. I did not save your life to have to die again," he said coldly. "Choose carefully." Celaena drummed her nails against the sheets. There was still dirt in them. She was a mess.

"Well it isn't much of a choice, is it," Celaena said sighing. She fell back into the pillows. "Fine, I'll take your offer. I hope you don't make me regret this," she warned him. "I'll make your life miserable." Arobynn rose and flashed her a grin.

"I think I am able to make your life even more miserable. You better rest. As soon as you have healed properly your training begins." She nodded. Arobynn's eyes widened on the way to the door. "Oh, I almost forgot. You will need a new name. Nobody knows who you are in the Keep, your present company excluded of course." Celaena hesitated.

"My choice?" he nodded. She wanted a exotic name, something so different no one will never guess her true identity. A name that will reflect her future self, someone powerful, deadly, and beautiful.

"Celaena Sardothien," she said at last, a wicked smile forming. "My name is Celaena Sardothien."

Later that night, Celaena Sardothien stared out the window. Frost dotted the shutters as they swung in the wind. A gust of freezing air swept in whipping her blonde hair around her face. It was so different from what she was used to. In the distance, the silvery ribbon that made up the Avery River wove through the buildings of Rifthold. With their emerald roofs so different from the bronze topped structures of Orynth. She turned her gaze toward the shimmering blue-green glass castle. What was the king doing now? Planning more conquest? More deaths? She gripped the railing, knuckles whitening, but then she relaxed. It was not her problem anymore.

Guilt twist her stomach into knots. Was she right to abandon her kingdom as she did? Give up on her people? Forget everything that had happened to herself and her family? She had no choice. Not if she wanted to survive in this new world. Celaena looked up into the sky. The stars were out tonight. She automatically sought out the stag. The Lord of the North. The constellation that always leads to Terrasen. She tilted her head up closing her eyes with a sigh.

Then, they opened in a flash. Blue and gold burning together, fusing, scorching, searing. Part of her will always belong to Terrasen, but now...

She was changed. _I am Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's Assassin, and I will not be afraid._ Celaena smiled and looked north. To a land of pine and snow. _I will not be afraid. _

The mirror image faded. "So, that's my life," Celaena said with a small shrug. Chaol and Dorian stared at her eyes comically wide. "And before you pity me, I'm over it. You can't change the past. No matter how much you want to," she gave them a sad smile.

"Have a goodnight. We leave early tomorrow." Celaena bowed and walked out.

* * *

**So this is the end. The last chapter. Of course, this isn't the end of all the Throne of Glass fanfics I am writing, but this was the first major one and I hope y'all readers, reviewers and followers enjoyed this story as much as I loved to write it. I know in the beginning, the summary says that the threesome go on this mission thingy, but that wasn't exactly the point of the story so, no, I am not continuing Mirror Memories with that adventure.**

**Although I ****_might_**** write another fanfic based on that. Maybe. But I think that won't come for a while since school is coming back and everything. You probably won't hear from me in a while so thanks for everything.**

**And of course, reviews are always great. *hint, hint***

**See y'all around!**

**~Silverleaf~**


End file.
